


Afraid Of Losing You

by AbschaumNo1



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, I Tried, M/M, at least I hope I got the angst part right...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 04:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2494640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbschaumNo1/pseuds/AbschaumNo1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As happy as Combeferre and Grantaire are, their last year at university proves to be a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afraid Of Losing You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [satb31](https://archiveofourown.org/users/satb31/gifts).



> A little treat for the amazing [Suzi](http://sashaatthebarricade.tumblr.com) for the Les Mis Trick or Treat Exchange, because I saw her request and could not walk away from it. I hope I did it justice, and didn't get too far off.

Grantaire and Combeferre had had their ups and downs since they started dating. They both weren't always easy to live with, and where Grantaire had always had his demons to fight, Combeferre could act on the principles of logic to an extend where it got harsh, and just a little too much, if Courfeyrac was not around to balance him out. Combeferre did his best to be a loving and supportive boyfriend, but sometimes his brain got the better of him and he managed to say the exact wrong thing.

They had had their fair share of arguments over time, but in the end they had always managed to mend their relationship. Because at the end of the day they loved each other, and they knew they were good for each other, and if they were close to forgetting their friends made sure that they remembered that.

What no one had anticipated was what happened towards the end of their final year at university. Combeferre was a biology student, who was planning to do his Master’s degree and eventually get into teaching, while Grantaire had decided that he would be done after his Bachelor, because it would not matter either way if he was an unemployed artist with a BA or an MA.

Combeferre had tried to convince him to do his Master’s degree, but to no avail; Grantaire had not budged from his decision. Which was kind of part of the problem, because Grantaire had an offer for a job in Paris, much to his own surprise, while Combeferre was still considering where exactly he wanted to go for his postgraduate course, he had talked about going to Grenoble or Lyon, but he also still considered leaving the country entirely.

Neither Combeferre, nor Grantaire wanted to keep the other from pursuing their dreams, but they were also reluctant to be so far apart for such a long time. Especially Grantaire was convinced that Combeferre would find someone else if he went away. The impending decision weighed on both of them, neither sure what exactly to do about it. Whenever they started talking about it their conversation ended in a mess of unspoken words and unfinished sentences hanging heavily between them when they both trailed off and looked at each other, sighing in unison. In the end they kept delaying the decision once again.

But the more time passed the more it affected them; Grantaire seemed to pull away from Combeferre more and more, only trying to soften the blow for both of them when it would finally come, and Combeferre… well, Combeferre was warring with himself. Logically it was all clear for him, there was no problem with Grantaire staying in Paris to work, while Combeferre went away to study; a lot of people had long-distance relationships, they would make it work. After all, there was Skype and the internet in general, and even if he actually went to a different country it was always possible for Grantaire to visit him, travel in France and the EU wasn’t so horrendously expensive that they would never be able to see each other. But his heart was a different matter altogether. Because Combeferre’s heart told him to stay and make sure that Grantaire was fine. He did not want to leave Grantaire behind, because he knew that he loved Grantaire, a lot.

Combeferre couldn’t even count the hours anymore that he had spent with Enjolras and Courfeyrac, talking in circles about what he could and what he should do. He was sure that his friends were shortly before the point of not wanting to listen to his problem anymore. And the way Grantaire kept trying to evade him whenever he could didn’t help much either.

In his conversations with his two oldest friends he kept returning to the possibility of staying in Paris and doing his postgraduate course there, but Courfeyrac kept saying, “We all know that you have always wanted to go out into the world and learn what other places and other people might have to teach you, and Grantaire knows that as well. He wouldn’t want you to stay here just because of him.”

“But what if the only solution he sees is breaking up with me?” Combeferre would reply. “We all know Grantaire, and I can already see it happening, because he thinks there is no way out of this.”

“Then convince him otherwise,” Enjolras said. “You love him, and he loves you, and he should know that, just like he should know that you don’t intend on leaving him.”

“Don’t you think I have tried that already?” Combeferre asked.

He sighed at the memory of that particular conversation between them. It had been one of the few times when they had managed to get further than the sentence fragments hanging in the air that they usually stopped at. And with the way it had ended… Combeferre was not entirely sure if he wanted to get to see the heartbroken face of his boyfriend again, when Grantaire had said, “You say that now, but once you are free to see past us you will realise your mistake.”

It had hurt to hear him say it, and for a moment Combeferre had not known how to reply. Then he had wrapped his arms around Grantaire and pulled him close. “Please don’t say that,” he had said, tears in his eyes, and Grantaire had held onto him like he was a drowning man.

“I’m afraid, Combeferre,” Grantaire had admitted, sounding like he supressed a sob, and Combeferre had held him in his arms until they both felt like they could breathe again.

They hadn’t managed to talk about it after that. And Grantaire had started to pull away, and Combeferre’s thoughts on the matter just kept running in circles.

And then Grantaire came home drunk. Combeferre was sitting in their kitchen, pouring over his books when he heard a sound at the door. He got up to open the door just to find Grantaire standing in front of it, swaying slightly. It is alarming to say the least, especially since Grantaire has stopped drinking over a year and a half ago. Combeferre had been there when he had gone through withdrawal, and he knew how important his sobriety was to his boyfriend. Combeferre was alarmed to say the least.

“What happened?” he asked worried, as he pulled Grantaire into their flat.

Grantaire smiled, “I am sure you can see that my dear Combeferre.”

“You drank,” Combeferre replied, as he lead Grantaire to their couch and sat down with him. “What I don’t understand is why you did it.”

“What sense is there in staying sober when my future holds only bleakness, and when the happiness I have found in sobriety seems doomed to fail? I do not think there is any sense in me staying sober if I know that the light of my life will be taken away from me, and darkness shall descend on me again. I had rather find myself in the warm arms of the green fairy and her companions than alone.” Grantaire gave him a cynical smile.

Combeferre barely supressed a sigh, and wrapped one arm around Grantaire. “Grantaire. You’re not going to lose me. I won’t be here, but I will still love you. And if you think you should give up something as important to you as your sobriety just because you think you will lose me because I am not in the same city as you are then maybe you should consider that it is worth trying it.” He pressed a kiss to his temple and got up again. “But you should probably go to bed now. We will talk about this again when you are sober.” He helped Grantaire up and brought him to the bedroom, tucking him into their bed from where he looked up at him, suddenly a lot sleepier than he had appeared earlier. “Sleep,” he told Grantaire. “The world will look different when you are sober again.”

He smiled and with a brush of his fingertips against Grantaire’s cheek he turned around to get his boyfriend a glass of water and an aspirin. When he returned Grantaire had fallen asleep, and Combeferre could only stand next to the bed, looking down at him while he wondered just what he could do about this. Finally he took out his phone and texted Courfeyrac and Enjolras.

His two friends replied almost immediately and just half an hour later they were sitting in the living room, together, the door to the bedroom firmly closed but weighing on Combeferre’s mind like a heavy rock on a piece of paper. He was sitting on the couch, Courfeyrac on his right with his arms wrapped around Combeferre, and Enjolras on his left, rubbing his back soothingly.

“I just don’t understand why he would throw it away like this,” Combeferre whispered. “He was so proud that he made it, and he was so strong. Why now?”

“He’s terribly afraid of losing you,” Courfeyrac said. “And he has managed to get himself convinced that there is no way that the two of you will work out if you leave the city and he stays behind. He doesn’t want to lose you, but he is convinced that he will.”

“Grantaire continues to expect the worst for his life, and he has a tendency to see it as inevitable, which means he has probably decided to just give up,” Enjolras added.

Combeferre sighed and buried his head in his hands. “I just wish he would understand that it’s not going to happen.”

“Maybe you need to do something stupid,” Courfeyrac suggested, a glint in his eyes that Combeferre was only too familiar with.

“No, Courfeyrac,” Enjolras said. “I think that maybe that should be his last resort.”

Courfeyrac had the decency not to pout at Enjolras, but he looked at Combeferre with a serious expression and said, “No, but think about it. If you think telling him won’t work out then maybe it is time to do something utterly stupid.”

“I will think about it,” Combeferre replied with a smile.

“That’s the spirit.” There was a smile on Courfeyrac’s face now, and Combeferre found his mind a little more at ease than before.

Enjolras smiled at both of them, and Combeferre reached out to pull him close. The three of them still fit together in a mess of limbs just like they had in the earlier years of their friendship, and for a second all Combeferre could think of was how glad he was that he could call the two of them his friends.

By the time Grantaire stirred in their bed the next morning Enjolras and Courfeyrac had been gone for a long time. Combeferre had spent the rest of his night in an armchair in the bedroom, keeping one eye on his boyfriend, while he tried to concentrate on the biology textbook in his lap. Grantaire groaned when he woke up, and Combeferre immediately closed his book. For a moment he stayed where he was, but then he got up and sat down on the edge of the mattress. He pressed the glass of water and the aspirin he had left on the bedside table the last evening into Grantaire’s hands. Once he had downed the pills, Grantaire sunk back into his pillow and looked up at him, a slightly pained expression on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I…I don’t know what exactly made me do it.”

Combeferre looked down at him, a tinge of sadness in his eyes. He caressed Grantaire’s cheek. “You were afraid, weren’t you? Because you think we’re doomed once I can’t see you every day anymore.”

“I…” Grantaire didn’t finish the sentence, but the way he looked away from Combeferre’s face told his partner everything he needed to know.

Combeferre sighed and leaned down to press a kiss to the corner of Grantaire’s mouth. “Please don’t think that. I love you, and you make me happy. I wouldn’t want to leave you for the world. Wherever I will go, won’t matter, because my heart will always be with you.”

”Have you turned into a poet over night?” Grantaire asked, with a soft smile.

Combeferre kissed him again. “I am just telling the truth. Because I want you to understand that I will not stop loving you.”

Grantaire closed his eyes and curled up until his forehead touched Combeferre’s thigh. “I am afraid. I’m afraid that you will reconsider all of this once you’re gone. And I’m afraid that you will find someone better, someone who’s not as much of a fuck up as I am.”

“You’re not a fuck up,” Combeferre said, carding his fingers through Grantaire’s locks. “You have demons, and you fought them, and you’ve been so strong. And you’re so intelligent and talented. I don’t think I could find someone better than you.”

Grantaire brought up his arm to trace patterns on Combeferre’s leg. “I just…I can’t bring myself to think rationally about this,” he admitted.

Combeferre watched him, just as he remembered what Courfeyrac had said earlier. It only took him a moment to decide, but then he was sure about what he should do. His fingers stilled where they were massaging Grantaire’s scalp and he took his hand instead. He brought it up and kissed Grantaire’s knuckles. “What if I asked you to marry me?”

“What?” Grantaire asked.

Combeferre smiled and repeated, “What if I asked you to marry me?”

“You…?” Grantaire shook his head in disbelief. “Are you even listening to yourself?”

“Yes, I am,” Combeferre said, still holding Grantaire’s hand in his. “And I am entirely serious.”

“I…”

Combeferre kissed his knuckles again. “We don’t have to get married right away if you don’t want to. Or we could just go and get the next free appointment and get married as soon as possible. But I want you to know that I hope to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I’m not sure what to say,” Grantaire replied truthfully, barely able to conceal his happiness. “I mean, yes I want to marry you, Combeferre. I just… I don’t know about the time.” He smiled up at him. “Because I kind of want to marry you right now, but that would mean to get out of the fun that’s the bachelor party and the reception, and I don’t think I would want that.”

Combeferre laughed. “Then how about you give me time to get you an engagement ring, and we start planning and see about the date when we’re ready?”

“Oh, so I do get an engagement ring?” Grantaire raised an eyebrow.

“Of course you do. What kind of future husband would I be if I didn’t get you one?” Combeferre replied with another laugh. “Besides, my mum would get very cross with me if I didn’t treat you right.”

Grantaire smiled, he was well aware of what Combeferre’s mother would do. Since he wasn’t exactly on the best terms with his own family, Combeferre’s mother had insisted on inviting him over for the holidays. “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” He got serious again. “I can’t promise that I won’t have any more doubts about us. I can try, but it won’t always be okay.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Combeferre replied. “But I think we might both feel a little safer knowing that we’re married.”

They shared a smile, before Grantaire rolled onto his back and stretched out. “So how and when are we telling the others?” he asked.

“Oh I think they can wait until I got you the ring,” Combeferre replied, twisting so he could lean over Grantaire. For a moment they just looked at each other, soft smiles on their faces, and then Combeferre leant down and kissed Grantaire. Their lips moved against each other, and Combeferre caught Grantaire’s bottom lip between his. He tugged softly, and Grantaire’s lips opened; he tilted his head a bit and Combeferre’s tongue slid into his mouth. They kissed until they needed to break away from each other to take a breath.

Grantaire let out a slightly breathless laugh. “That was not the best tasting kiss we ever had, was it?

“Only you could talk about how it tasted, just after the first time we kissed as fiancés,” Combeferre replied, rolling his eyes fondly.

“Yeah well, you knew what you got yourself into, didn't you?” Grantaire said. Grinning, and all Combeferre could do was huff in amusement and kiss him again.

 

In the end they didn't make a big announcement out of it. They walked into the Musain one evening; hand in hand, and the freshly bought engagement ring on Grantaire's finger. Grantaire smiled at Combeferre and gave him a quick kiss before he made for his usual spot with Joly and Bossuet, while Combeferre walked over to where Enjolras was sitting. The blond raised an eyebrow at him, observant as ever, and Combeferre only smiled back.

Jehan was the first to say anything about it. The ring on Grantaire's finger hadn't escaped his attention, and he gave his friend a big smile and said, “Is that what I believe it is?”

Grantaire laughed and held up his hand. “If you mean this, then I think it is exactly what you believe it to be, my friend.”

Joly, raised his eyebrows. “You are getting married?”

“Yes, my dear Joly.” Grantaire grinned happily, and then looked over to Combeferre with a fond expression in his eyes. “At least that is what I agreed to do.”

“And no one told me!” Courfeyrac said with a sigh as he entered the room. He shook his head. “And here I thought we all were friends.” He sat down next to Combeferre, and smiled at him knowingly. “But as long as the two of you are happy I’m reconciled.”

There was laughter and in the commotion that came up when Bahorel and Feuilly arrived and got informed Courfeyrac leant towards Combeferre and whispered. “Maybe that was not exactly what I meant when I said you should do something stupid, but I guess it works. Is he fine now?”

Combeferre looked past his friend at his fiancé; Grantaire was laughing with Bossuet now, and he seemed as happy as ever. “I think it has helped,” he said.

They would still have to face the two years apart, and Combeferre knew that it would probably be hard sometimes, but he would always know that Grantaire would be there. And Grantaire would always know that Combeferre was there to stay in his life, whether he was with him or not.


End file.
